A different kind of friend
by Dyramins
Summary: Otabek Altin is spending some time in St. Petersburg with his best friend Yuri Plisetsky; training at his rink and generally just hanging out. The two contemplate their relationship as fluff ensues in this (possible) AU with few to no changes from the canon of the show!
1. Chapter 1

Otabek unzipped his hoodie and tossed it to the floor beside his bed. He collapsed onto the mattress and rolled over to stare at the ceiling. Everything ached. He may have pushed himself a little too hard during training today, but while he was skating at Yuri's rink in St. Petersburg he felt the need to downplay the fact that he was about as flexible as a brick. He flexed the muscles in his lower leg, stopping abruptly when it hurt. He cautiously tried again. A sharp pain in his calf and Achilles' tendon caused him to cry out, bolting upright. The pain didn't stop. He held his leg, hunched over, jaw set. The guest room door flew open and hit the wall with a bang, "Otabek are you okay?" He heard the squeak of his mattress as Yuri sat on the edge of his bed, placing a hand on his back. He repeated the question, "Otabek?" He couldn't answer, he couldn't even move. They sat in silence, Yuri rubbing circles slowly on his back, until the pain subsided. Otabek leaned back on his arms, folding himself into a half cross legged position, with the offending leg sticking out a bit. He was breathing hard. What the hell happened? Yuri reached over his lap and gingerly rubbed his thumb over his calf. Otabek gave him a questioning glance. He didn't look up, "does this hurt?"

"No"

"How about this?" He pressed down a little.

"Not like before, it's just that-"

"That wasn't the damn question"

"A bit" he mumbled, looking away. Yuri let out a sound of disapproval, "Tsk, stop trying to impress Yakov and Lilia, they've seen you perform. They know you're not flexible,"

His voice softened a bit, "You're going to hurt yourself." Otabek tensed and glared down at Yuri, "don't fucking patronize me!" he snarled. Yuri stopped and stared at his hands, eyes wide. Shit.

Yuri's breath hitched as he felt Otabek's smouldering glare burn a hole in his head. His hands were shaking. Damn, he was fucking terrifying. He'd never seen him this mad, or mad at all for that matter. There was a moment of deafening silence. Yuri swung his gaze up and looked a mortified Otabek dead in the eyes, "I'm a concerned friend, asshole, you know I didn't mean it like that!" His voice was strong, but he could feel that the colour had drained from his face. Otabek's stoic expression was long gone. He looked like he was about to cry. It was one of the few times that Yuri could barely believe Otabek was a whole two and a half years older than himself. His voice cracked, "I'm so sorry, Yura" he looked down at his lap, "If you want me to leav-" Yuri cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips, "Let me help" Otabek blinked stupidly as Yuri chuckled, "and calm down, we both know I'm a complete dick like 90 percent of the time. I'm sure I can give you a free pass when this is the first time you've dealt with Mila and Georgie for an entire day." Yuri saw the corners of Otabek's mouth turn up in a barely visible smile, "alright." He just caught the whispered response. Yuri straightened up, "take off your shirt." Otabek's expression jumped back to mortified in a split second, "what?"

"You want my help or not?" He folded his arms across his chest, "my grandpa has a bad back and he's really tense all the time. If I didn't massage his shoulders every once in a while I think he'd keel over and die." Otabek shot him an incredulous look before turning away. Yuri found himself staring at Otabek's well muscled back as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. Damn, maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Otabek watched Yuri head over to the bathroom. He lay down on his stomach, resting the side of his face on his folded arms. A twinge of worry nipped his stomach as he heard Yuri rifling through a cupboard. He reappeared with a bottle of moisturizer. Otabek felt Yuri stare at him. Wait, shit, he was supposed to be sitting up for this wasn't he? Too late. Yuri shrugged and climbed onto the bed, straddling his lower back. Otabek shifted his arms so that his forehead could rest on them to hide whatever blush he couldn't fight back. This was a little too intimate. He didn't want Yuri to see how uncomfortable this was making him, lest he thought he was a creep. They were friends. Friends don't get butterflies when other friends give them a massage. He gasped when Yuri spread the lotion over his shoulders and neck. It was really damn cold. He sighed as Yuri ran his hands over the tops of his shoulders. The tension was melting away already.

Yuri pressed circles into Otabek's skin with his thumbs, the lotion allowing his hands to glide easily. Otabek let out a low hum as he switched movements, kneading his shoulders. He was really tense. He used a bit less pressure to slide up the back of his neck. He got off of Otabek, slathering his back in the lotion. He started by simply running his fingers from his neck down to the waistband of his jeans. He may have done a bit of his own research on larger scale massages. He hadn't tried something like this before. He placed one hand over the other, using a circular motion with his palms. He sat up on his knees as he went up and down Otabek's back to allow himself to move from his waist rather than his shoulders.

He couldn't help but appreciate the solid muscles under his hands as he continued. Did Otabek work out as a hobby? He never talked about it, but Yuri suspected he did. The man had a rather developed upper body for a figure skater, not that he didn't have a nice ass or legs as well. Unlike himself, Victor or even Katsuki, his body wasn't really naturally build for the sport, but he made the most of what he had. And what he had was pretty damn spectacular. The extra muscle mass didn't seem like much of on issue for him since he was shorter and had a slighter frame than most male figure skaters. In fact he was a bit shocked at the height difference when he saw JJ and Otabek talking the day they became friends. He hadn't expected Otabek to have to look up at anyone, but JJ had leaned down like the asshole he was to be at eye level with the object of his harassment just like he did with Yuri. When you get to know him, Otabek's height does suit him. It just takes some getting used to. You would think that a short, young, ethnically ambiguous looking man such as him really should be able to blend into any crowd, but then again he happens to be ridiculously hot. Not pretty like Victor or Chris, not cute like some of the younger skaters, not disgusting like JJ, but actually hot as hell. He was a bit ashamed that he had caught himself staring more than a few times in locker rooms. But they were friends, and friends were allowed to admire one another's impressive physiques.

His train of thought was interrupted when a particular motion elicited a quiet moan from Otabek. He forced himself not to stop as his face burned red. This was way more intimate than he bargained for. Every little sound he made added to the warmth hanging over Yuri's face. His arms were getting a little sore. Yuri finished up what he was working on and sat back, resting a hand on the other's waist, "Otabek?" He had fallen asleep at some point during the massage. Yuri yawned. He could use a nap himself. After a moment's thought he gently rolled Otabek over and lay down beside him. Sleep was already overtaking him as he watched Otabek's calm, sleeping face. Damn, he really was handsome.


	2. Chapter 2

Otabek woke up pleasantly warm, but was soon feeling burning hot when he realized why. He had his arms around Yuri, who was curled up against him, face pressed into his bare chest, gently snoring. One of his hands was tangled in Yuri's soft, blond hair, while the other rested on his lower back. He didn't dare move, but rather just sighed, cursing himself and shut his eyes. Maybe everything would just disappear if he refused to wake up. He was a ridiculously cuddly sleeper and had a tendency to hug his blankets instead of using them if he didn't have a stuffed animal. It had only been an issue once or twice in his lifetime, most notably when he and JJ shared a hotel room with only one bed due to an error on a high school trip while they were both training in Canada. He still hadn't lived that down. JJ would have blackmail material for all of eternity. But this was different. He and JJ were friends, while he and Yuri were... also friends. A different kind of friends, though. He drifted off again.

Yuri blinked slowly. His eyes flew open when he realized where he was. His head was resting on Otabek's arm, whose fingers were intertwined with Yuri's hair. Otabek's nose was brushing his own. He could feel his breath on his face. His heart sped up, falling out of sync with Otabek's. Yuri stared for a good long while. Otabek's face was relaxed, his eyes resting shut. His thick, dark hair was tousled and curlier than usual, probably because he hadn't styled it today. His skin looked smooth and soft, fairly even in tone except for some small birthmarks. He counted the ones he could see. There were nine. Three on his cheek, two on his jaw, one above his lip, two on the bridge of his nose and a very faint one at the corner of his eye. He never realized how many of the marks Otabek had. They weren't terribly noticeable, like darker, much sparser freckles. He leaned back a little so that he could see Otabek's shoulders and chest. There were several there as well. He took in Otabek's individual features, the dark eyes that he wished he could see right now, the full eyebrows, the delicate nose, the strong jaw, the reasonably plump lips that were maybe an inch from his. Yuri felt like he had just run 5k. He prayed his pounding heart wouldn't wake Otabek. Shit. Too late. Otabek's eyes fluttered open. Without thinking, Yuri presses his lips against his friend's. Otabek let out a small sound of surprise. One. Two. Three. He pulled back after three seconds. Otabek looked like he had just seen a ghost. So much for an even skin tone, his face was red as the sunset. He had just kissed Otabek. The realization hit him like a tsunami. He scrambled backwards, letting out a yell as he accidentally propelled himself off the edge of the bed. He hit the floor with a dull thud, his head snapping back against the wall. He immediately started yelling, "No no no, fuck, I- SHIT, I didn't-"

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Otabek was kneeling on the mattress, leaning over him. Yuri's face was burning so incredibly hot that his eyes started to water, "I-I-I-"

"Shit." Otabek climbed off the bed and crouched beside Yuri, sliding a hand behind his head to feel where it had hit the wall. Yuri flinched away from him. His voice cracked, "Otabek, I-"

"Hey, listen to me. What's the date? What day is it?" Yuri didn't answer for a moment, everything felt foggy. He couldn't think straight, "I'm sorry, I-"

"Hey" he snapped his fingers, the sound startled him a bit, "what day is it?"

"Um... Sunday?"

Otabek grimaced. It was Tuesday. That wasn't a good sign, "Yuri, what city are we in?"

"I don't know" he was slurring his words, "why are you asking me so many questions, Beka?" He gently tilted up Yuri's head with his fingers under his chin, "look at me." He complied. His pupils were dilated. He squinted at Otabek, "it's too bright"

"I think you have a concussion. How close is the nearest hospital?" He didn't know his way around St. Petersburg. Yuri glared at him, "I don't fucking know"

"Your phone, where's your phone?" He asked more to himself than to Yuri. He checked the other skater's jacket pockets and sighed with relief when he pulled out Yuri's cell. Fuck. He didn't know his passcode. Instead of asking his concussed friend he grabbed his hand, using his fingerprint to unlock the phone. He opened his contacts. He scrolled down, skimming over the names. He couldn't help but notice that his name had a heart next to it. That didn't matter right now. The kiss didn't matter, Yuri's hurt and that's what's important. He found the contact he was looking for and pressed the call button, activating speaker phone and placing the device on the floor. He saw that Yuri's eyes were closed. He shook his shoulder, "Yura!" He startled awake, "don't fall asleep." The ringing stopped as the call clicked on, "why are you calling me Yuri?"

"Lilia, it's Otabek" Yuri had said that he'd never call Yakov in an emergency, "We're at your apartment, Yuri's got a concussion, I don't know where the hospital is and even if I did I don't have a car-"

"Stop talking." Her voice was firm, but oddly reassuring, "I'm on my way." She hung up. Otabek threw the phone on the bed. Yuri looked up at him, "is that Lilia?"

"Yeah. Come on, we're going to try and get you to the living room." He helped Yuri to his feet, slinging his arm over his shoulders, supporting about 90 percent of his weight. Yuri went limp, his body convulsed in a silent retch. Otabek half carried, Half dragged him into the bathroom. He held back his hair as he threw up into the toilet.

Lilia stormed into the bathroom to see Yuri curled up in Otabek's lap on the floor, head resting on his shoulder. She quirked a eyebrow. Yuri looked up at her drowsily, "Lilia?"

"Come on, Yuri." She lifted him off of Otabek and the two helped him to the elevator. Otabek had to be careful since Yuri kept stumbling and almost tripping him, "thank god you're here! Otabek keeps saying I need to go to the hospital. What does he know, right?"

"We're going to the hospital"

"Not you too Lilia! That's crazy, I'm fine" Otabek butt in, "I can barely understand you, you're slurring your words so much."

"Shows what you know! You don't even speak Russian that good"

"Yura, Russian's my first language"

"Oh yeah... I forgot."

Lilia glanced at Otabek out of the corner of her eye, "'Yura', hmm?" Yuri squinted at her, "what?"

"Just get in the car."


	3. Chapter 3

Yuri woke up in the hospital. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. A nearly inaudible snore caught his attention. He looked over to see Otabek curled up in a chair and half draped over the side of his bed. Yuri placed a hand on his shoulder, "Beka?"

"Mm-m?" Otabek blinked sleepily.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"You smashed your head against a wall and got concussion"

"What? It couldn't have been so bad that I needed to go to the hospital!"

"You said I 'didn't speak Russian good'"

"Oh my god. Why the hell would I say that?"

Otabek stared blankly at him, "Probably the accent. Also you were concussed."

"That was rhetorical, dumbass" Yuri cracked a smile. His hand lingered on Otabek's shoulder, "you stayed with me all night?"

"Yeah, well it was already late by the time we got you checked out and the doctors suggested that you stay. Lilia didn't want you here by yourself, but she had to go teach ballet to five year olds with no attention span in four hours so I offered to stay"

"Thanks Beka" he looked out the window over the street. The building across from the hospital was barely visible through the early morning fog, "when am I getting discharged?"

"Lilia said she'd be here in an hour or two"

"Ugh, that's so long!"

"We could watch a movie or something"

"Sounds good to me! What is there?" The chair scraped loudly across the floor as Otabek pushed it back to stand up. He groaned and arched his back so that it cracked. Yuri shook his head, regretting the action when his concussion made itself known, "You can undo a massage faster than Victor can disappear from the skating world without any warning to go coach some random Japanese asshole"

"That was oddly specific. I-" Otabek paused for a moment and looked back at him. Yuri couldn't read his expression. Confused, concerned, was he upset? Otabek ran a hand through his hair, "you remember that?"

"Yeah, why?"

"What else do you remember from that night?"

"Not much. Just falling asleep and then waking up here"

"Oh"

"Did something else happen?"

"No, no. I just..." he trailed off.

"Just what?" Yuri frowned at him. What was up with him? Otabek cleared his throat, squatted in front of the cabinet the television was resting on and started rambling off a list of movie names. There wasn't anything good. They decided on an old western. It was an American film so russian subtitles were unlikely, but they both understood English well enough that it wasn't a problem and it was sure as hell better than a cheesy romcom. Otabek settled in his chair as the movie began and Yuri tutted, "what are you, crazy? You've done enough to your poor back, come lay down!" He scooted over and lifted the covers, offering a spot to Otabek. "The bed's a little small"

"Don't be ridiculous, we've shared a couch before"

"If you insist" Otabek flopped beside him, folding his arms behind his head.

Yuri found himself inhaling a little too deeply. Seriously, he was going to get high off of Otabek's cologne. Vanilla, orange, was that some kind of wood, amber maybe? He wasn't too sure, but what he did know was that he'd allowed Otabek to conveniently forget his hoodie when he went back to Kazakhstan more than a few times. He first noticed the scent when they became friends in Barcelona and immediately recognized it at the banquet. If he was being honest it really helped get him in the zone for the second half of Welcome to the Madness. And it may have gotten him off once or twice. Not a big deal, the smell was just so damn alluring. It was the cologne. Yeah, he associated it with Otabek, but that couldn't be the reason that he had completely checked out from reality. It was driving him a little crazy actually.

"What cologne is that?" Wait, did he really just as him that? Otabek's eyebrows raised a little, "what?" Well, shit. Gotta stick with it now. He huffed, "I said, you're cologne. It smells nice"

"You really do have a concussion, don't you."

"No shit, you took me to the hospital." Thank god he could pass it off as a concussion thing, "what cologne is it?"

"Um, I don't know. My sister gets me the same one for my birthday every year, has since I was fifteen. But she always takes the label off. She says that when she dies, the cologne dies with her."

"You're 11 year old sister?"

Otabek laughed, "No, my older sister"

"I didn't know you had more than one sibling"

"Yeah, I've got three sisters."

"Wow. You learn something new everyday."

"I guess you do."

"I hope I can meet your family someday" Yuri smiled at him. Otabek's face was a little redder than usual. He could push it a bit, since he had an excuse to hide behind, "there's so much I don't know about you!"

"You know me a lot better than most, Yura"

"But I want to know eeeeverything" he drew out the last word a little longer than necessary, making sure he sounded delirious. Otabek cleared his throat, pushing his hair back, "how about the movie?"

"Was that a subject change?"

"Yes."

"Noooo, Beka. I want to talk about you" damn, he was really stretching it. He giggled, "let's play a game!"

"Fine."

"Never have I ever... gotten drunk" Otabek put one of his five fingers down. Yuri stared at him, "really?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, you're turn!"

"Never have I ever snuck into a club even though I was well under the age limit"

"Come on, that's not fair!"

"All is fair in love and war"

"Alright, never have I ever smoked a cigarette"

Otabek sighed, "you're revealing my worst qualities here, Yura."

"You're an athlete, do you know how bad that is for you?"

"Everyone is Kazakhstan smokes, I'm probably one of the lightest in the whole damn country. I only smoke when I'm stressed."

"Wow"

"I could use one right now actually." He sighed under his breath, "Never have I ever punched Jean"

"Who, JJ?"

"Yeah"

"You're getting really specific here, Beka. Never have I ever had a girlfriend." Otabek put a finger down and Yuri felt his heart speed up. No. Shit, really? Does he have one now that he just never mentioned? His stomach muscles tightened. Otabek interrupted his thoughts, "never have I ever lived in Moscow"

"Not fair. Never have I ever had sex!"

Otabek sighed, "Yuri, I really don't-"

"I'm just trying to ask questions that wouldn't come up in normal conversation!"

His dark-haired counterpart looked away as he put down another finger. Yuri's heart fluttered.

"Never have I ever gotten a concussion"

"Damn you. never have I ever broken a bone."

"There you go, you win. Happy?"

"Yeah, actually"

Otabek chuckled softly, "I'm glad"

"But-"

"Oh god"

"Hey, come on! I'm sensing a story here" Yuri smiled as Otabek blew out a steady stream of air, cheeks puffed up.

"Alright..." he leaned his head back, studying the ceiling, "the first time was when I was six"

"The first time?"

"Shut up. I broke my wrist figure skating. Pretty standard, not much to tell about that."

"And the second time?" Otabek stared at the ceiling for a long moment, "Come on, it can't be that bad."

"I jumped off of a thirty foot tree feet first into a lake that I had no idea the depth of."

"Why the FUCK would you do that?!"

"It was a dare."

"Okay, hang on. When did this happen?"

"A couple of years ago"

Yuri furrowed his brows, staring at him, "you're an idiot."

"Thanks, because I didn't know that already"

"So this was when you were training in Canada?"

"Yes"

"At the same rink as-"

"Yes."

"You need better friends."

"Well I've got you know, don't I?" Otabek gave him a cautious smile.

Yuri snorted, "Yeah, not for long if you're still doing stupid shit like that!"

Otabek laughed. Yuri shouldered him, "you think I'm kidding?"

At that moment Lilia opened the door, "come on we're taking you home."


	4. Chapter 4

Otabek approached Yuri, who was standing outside on the balcony, "come inside, Yura. It's cold out here."

"Take me for a walk"

"What? The sun set an hour ago"

"I'm tired of being pent up! I only have you here until Saturday and it's already Thursday. We've lost so much time because of that stupid concussion. I can't even practice for another week!"

"Okay then" He could never say no to Yuri, the man got what he wanted no matter the obstacle. He was stubborn that way. He grabbed Yuri's arm as he tried to open the door in nothing, but a T-shirt and jeans, "do you have a death wish? Go put on something warmer."

"Whatever" Yuri came back in a hoodie. Otabek made a sound of disapproval. That was probably the best he was going to get. He insisted they take the elevator because of Yuri's injury.

It was a cold, crisp night. Otabek's breath formed clouds in front of him. Even something that was vaguely reminiscent of smoking calmed him a bit. Reminded him of home. Not having the smell of tabbacco hanging over him was nice, though. The wide path through the park was illuminated every hundred meters or so by ornate lampposts. The sound of trickling water resonated from an unseen source. He looked up at the stars as he walked. He started when Yuri grabbed his hand, "slow down! It's dark, I don't want to get turned around."

"Sorry" he laced his gloved fingers with Yuri's, stopping dead at the feeling of his shaking hand. He furrowed his brow, "you're shivering."

"So what?"

"I told you to dress warm" he pulled off his scarf and tied it snug around Yuri's neck, tucking it into his hoodie. He pulled off one of his gloves and fit it on the blond skater's left hand, before grabbing his bare hand once again and stuffing it into his own jacket pocket. They kept walking. Otabek sighed, "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Yeah, but I'm your idiot" Yuri flashed the most dazzling smile. His idiot. Yuri squeezed his hand. He let one corner of his mouth tug into a crooked smile.

He turned his gaze back to the stars, stealing occasional glances at his companion. Shining, beautiful, dangerous and incomprehensibly far way. To be seen, worshipped, but never touched, never reached. But now things had changed. He seemed so close it hurt. He could reach out and never let go. But along with the proximity came the blinding light, a light he could barely handle. A light that dealt a crushing blow to his senses, that illuminated every part of him. The good, the bad, the ugly. The pieces of him very few people had seen. The stoic front he showed the world melted. It was so much more comfortable to be millions of miles apart, but it all took his breath away. And he didn't want it back. He would gladly suffocate in the vacuum if it meant that he never had to come down from this high. High in body, high in spirit. Light as air on the ice and on life, flying as if gravity no longer applied to him. Of course it all broke down sometimes. He would fall, crash, fuck up, crush his own dreams, show his flaws, miss his standards, disappoint himself and the people around him, trying desperately to shield himself from the blinding, deafening, painful light. But it was always there to expose him, leave him naked and scared and illuminate the world around him so he could see it in a way he couldn't before. To inspire him, to warm him up in the cold night, to reveal the paths he wasn't confident enough to see on this own. And yet he hid things in the shadow cast, shielded his secrets with his body because he could not let them be seen. The addiction, the aspects of the nightlife scene in Kazakhstan he wished he'd never seen, his original ties to JJ, his feelings for Yuri.

Otabek inhaled sharply as Yuri slid his hand into his far back pocket. He hadn't even noticed that Yuri stopped holding his hand. He involuntary clenched his butt and he felt his face heat up. Play it cool, Otabek. Think poker face. Yuri's quick glance told him that he had at least somewhat succeeded. He forced himself to relax and slung his arm around Yuri's shoulder. What does this mean? Yuri was practically grabbing his ass... unashamedly. There was no way in hell this kid was innocent to what he was doing here. After that whole Welcome to the Madness fiasco Otabek knew that Yuri had some comprehension of what he was capable of sexually, despite being a virgin. He had suspected it, but hadn't confirmed it until the concussed game of 'never have I ever' in which Yuri had seemed oddly curious about Otabek's sex life. This was getting to be too much. He's a teenager, he doesn't know what he wants. Then again he was having sex at fourteen with no regrets or permanent emotional scaring. Except that whole thing with... nevermind, not important. It's not like he's not a teen as well, there's less than two and a half years between them. Maybe Otabek was legally an adult, but who the hell was he fooling? Apparently not Yuri. Stop it right fucking there! There's no way Yuri wants what Otabek thinks he wants. He freaked out and gave himself a concussion after kissing him. If he fucking lays a hand on Yuri before he's a legal adult! holy shit. He's threatening himself. Is this rock bottom? Is he clinically insane? Goddamn it. Maybe he should just ask him? And risk their friendship? No fucking way. He didn't realize they were back at the apartment until Yuri pulled the door open with his free hand. Otabek went to move away, but Yuri kept his hand firmly in his pocket. They awkwardly squeezed through the door and waited for the elevator. The doors dinged as they opened. No one else was in there. It had to be well after midnight. Otabek broke the silence as they entered the elevator, "maybe you should take your hand out of my my pocket," he cleared his throat, "just in case... Lilia, y'know might-" Yuri slammed the emergency stop button with his fist. Otabek almost fell over as the elevator halted, "HOLY FUCK, YURI?!"

"I need to tell you something!"

"Did you have to stop the goddamn fucking elevator? What if it set off an alarm and called the fire department or something? What if someone needs t-"

"Just fucking listen to me!"

"What could you possibly have to say that warrants stopping the elevator?" Otabek felt a twinge of guilt as the light caught the tears forming in Yuri's eyes. His face was beet red, "I think I'm in love with you!" Otabek froze. This shouldn't have been a shock, but he felt like someone just punched him in the gut. He managed to choke out a whisper, "What? Why?"

"Why the fuck wouldn't I? You're so effortlessly cool, you're hot as fuck, you're basically a sex god and an absolute idiot and so damn sappy and sweet and smart and compassionate and I can't get enough of you!" Otabek blinked at him. He put a hand on Yuri's shoulder, "Yura, I-" Yuri grabbed his face and he was cut short by a kiss. A much more deliberate kiss than last time. Yuri's nails dig into his skin. Otabek stumbled backwards as Yuri pushed him against the wall. He was strong for someone his size. He let his hands rest on Yuri's back. Yuri braced his arms against the wall. Otabek broke away before the kiss got any more passionate, "let-" he was more than a bit out of breath, "let me start the elevator... we shouldn't be doing this." Yuri let out a sound of protest and pushed down on Otabek's shoulders. He brought Otabek down with him to the floor. He sat on Otabek's folded leg, facing him. Otabek jumped as Yuri pressed a knee between his thighs, almost accidentally kneeing him in the crotch. They kissed again. Otabek leaned back reaching for the button, "hold on" Yuri immediately pressed himself back against Otabek, kissing him roughly. Otabek turned his head to the side, "the elevator, Yura. I-" he gasped when Yuri pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking on his skin and leaving a mark. Yuri rubbed against him, practically fucking Otabek's leg. His arousal grew with every sound that Yuri tried to stifle. Yuri tangled his fingers in Otabek's hair, tugging gently on it whenever something happened that he liked. Otabek slid his hand under Yuri's shirt and let his fingers rest just under the waistband of his jeans. Yuri stopped moving and slid backwards. He grabbed Otabek's crotch. Otabek couldn't hold back a surprised sound and he snapped his legs shut.

"Mother of- fucking hell Beka!" He yanked his hand back, shaking it out.

"Sorry" he mumbled, "but don't surprise me like that"

"You mean this whole situation or specifically grabbing your balls?"

"YURI!" His face was burning.

"What? I'm just asking what the fuck is going on, because I really can't tell how your feeling about this!"

"Well there's the whole thing where you're a teenager"

"So are you."

"This just doesn't feel right, Yuri."

"I knew it..." Yuri let his head drop, hair covering his face, "why the fuck would you let me do that if you didn't feel the same way?" His voice cracked as he raised it in anger. Otabek stared at him, taken aback. He was crying. Yuri glared up at him, a steady stream of tears running down his face, "burn in fucking hell!" He chocked back a sob, "you let me make a goddamn fool out myself in front of my only friend!"

"Yura-"

"And now it's all gone to shit!" Otabek gripped his shoulders, looking him in the eyes, "Yura, I didn't mean it like that!"

"This feels wrong... that's what you said!" Otabek pulled Yuri into a hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He whispered against his skin, "I'm scared, Yura. I don't want to fuck this up..." he sighed shakily, "I've been in love with you for over five years."

Yuri hiccuped as he pulled away, "really?"

"You think I'd lie about something like this?"

"Hell no" he laughed through his tears, "why am I so dumb?" Otabek shrugged nonchalantly, raising his voice back to normal volume, "I dunno, Yura, too much time with Victor?"

"Hey! You're the one whose friends with JJ, asshole" they collapsed in a fit of laughter. Lying on their backs, Yuri stared at Otabek, who was chuckling to himself, eyes closed. He studied his face. That crooked smile gave him life, this was he lived for. In addition to skating of course. He could never stay mad at Otabek. He was screaming his head off at him and less than five minutes later they're laughing like idiots. Yuri got a warm feeling in his chest: he would never fuck things up to the point that they'd stop being friends. Maybe now they could be something more as well. Otabek's gaze met his own, "you're beautiful, Yura. You're perfect." He blushed, looking away. Otabek turned onto his side to face him and reached out a hand to brush his hair behind his ear. His fingers caressed Yuri's cheek, "I love you" he whispered. His heart jumped when Otabek leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead. Yuri shook his head, "I swear to god if you start acting all lovesick like Victor or Katsudon I'll never speak to you again" He chuckled as Otabek immediately slipped into his trademark poker face, his voice basically dropped an entire octave, "what do you take me for?" Yuri shot him the most intense look he could muster, "you do that again and I won't be responsible for my actions..."

"Maybe I don't want you to be"

"Slow down, creep"

"You're the one who trapped me in an elevator to try and get some!" they started laughing again. Yuri paused. Otabek glanced at him, raising his eyebrows. He launched himself the foot or so over to Otabek, wrapping his arms around his torso and hugging him as tightly as he could. He could hear the breath whoosh out of his friend, "You're crushing me", he gasped, trying to wriggle out of his grip. Yuri held on for dear life, resting his cheek on his victim's chest. He loosened his grip when Otabek stopped trying to escape. He closed his eyes. The beating of Otabek's heart drummed in his ear, steady but faster than he had expected. He wasn't always as calm as his demeanour suggested was he? He rolled off of him when Otabek propped himself up on his elbows. He had that damned unreadable expression again. Yuri brought himself to his feet, reaching out a hand to pull Otabek up as well. He restarted the elevator, "I'm sorry. About all of this." He snapped his gaze back to his friend when he felt a hand on his shoulder, "Don't be. I'm glad one of us had the courage to act on their feelings." Yuri let a smile grace his features, but it evaporated as Otabek continued, "nonetheless, maybe keep the whole consent thing in mind."

"I'm sorry. Are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you."

"I'm sorry."

"you already apologized"

"I know, I'm so-"

"goddamn Yura, give it a rest. You never apologize." He chuckled weakly, "Just... promise me that you really want what you tell me you want. Always. I need you to promise me that."

"Of course, Beka. I'd never lie to you." The elevator dinged and the doors opened. They stepped into the elegantly designed corridor, Otabek's hand still resting on Yuri's shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

Otabek sat up in bed at the sound of his door creaking open. Light from the hallway shone into the dark room. Silhouetted in the doorway was Yuri. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "what's up, Yura?"

"I can't sleep." Otabek squinted to try and make out his expression. No luck, "I think that stupid concussion is giving me fucked up dreams. so I-" he paused with a sigh, "can I sleep in here?"

"Yeah, Of course." He shuffled over to make room, tossing one of the pillows behind his head beside him. Yuri climbed into the bed and lay staring at the ceiling. Otabek turned onto his side, away from him. This was awkward. Should he- Otabek gasped when Yuri pressed up against his back, spooning him and throwing one leg over his hip. His nose grazed the back of his neck. Otabek was tense for just a moment, but the warm breath on his skin was oddly relaxing. He was more than relieved that he'd worn a t-shirt and sweats to bed as opposed to just his boxers tonight. At the very least he could take solace in the fact that Yuri was behind him and therefore wouldn't feel it if anything... happened. He was so close to him. He could feel his own heart rate increase. Was Yuri asleep? His question was answered when he let out a small sound, snuggling somehow even closer then falling into a rhythm of gentle snores. His arm snaked under Otabek's, wrapping around his torso. He couldn't keep his eyes open. He tried and failed to lift his heavy eyelids as sleep consumed him.

Otabek woke with a start to Yuri crying out. He sat up, turning to look at the source of the noise. He was upright as well, arms braced against the bed, chest heaving with loud, shallow gasps. He was staring blankly at the sheets with wide eyes. Otabek gently set a hand on his back and Yuri jumped, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle a scream. Otabek leaned forward, cupping his jaw and stroking his cheek with a thumb, "Yura. Hey, it's me. Calm down. Everything's alright, I'm here." The fear in his eyes died away. He squeezed them shut, furrowing his brows. He took one long deep inhale, holding it for a second before exhaling loudly. Otabek watched him intently, "are you okay?"

"Yeah..." Yuri pulled his hand away from his face, but held onto it, "that was psychedelic as fuck." His voice had taken on an annoyed tone, but Otabek could see that he was still violently shaking. He made the small movement forward needed to embrace his friend. Yuri let out an exasperated sigh, but curled up against him nonetheless, "I'm fine, Beka. Just have a bit of a headache."

"Maybe if I hug you enough it'll go away."

"Stop being so damn sappy!" He chuckled softly. Otabek lay back onto the bed, Yuri half on top of him. He nuzzled into him, pressing his lips to his Adam's apple. Otabek swallowed, feeling the light pressure at his throat. Not that he minded, but it was getting him a bit flustered and now was far from the time for all of that. He remembered what Yuri had said about his cologne. There was still remnants of the scent hanging over him since he decided to shower in the morning rather than that night. Otabek bit the inside of his lip as Yuri inhaled deeply, his chest expanding. Otabek let his head fall to the side as he drifted off again. The last thing he noticed was Yuri's lips brushing over his throat as he moved.

Otabek blinked himself awake. Sunlight spilled between the cracks in the blinds on the window, creating stripes on the carpet. He looked down at Yuri, who was sprawled across his body. He shook him gently, "Yura." He groaned at the sound of his name, "Yura, come on. I have to get up." He lazily rolled off of him, throwing his arm over the edge of the mattress. Otabek crawled over him, careful not to kneel on his stomach. He grabbed his various toiletries on his way to the washroom. He paused in the doorway, turning back to Yuri, "I'm having a shower. So... yeah. Close my door when you leave." He mumbled an unintelligible reply. He shut and locked the door and stripped, tossing his clothes to the floor. Pushing aside the light blue curtain, he twisted the shower knob. The stream of water rapidly changed from freezing to warm as it ran over his hand. Once he deemed it an acceptable temperature he shook out his hand and stepped into the shower. He just stood there for a moment with his eyes closed, letting the water stream from his hair down his face and neck. His toes stung as they adjusted to the heat from the water. He couldn't figure out what he was to Yuri. What did he want him to be? A friend? A hot friend to admire from afar? A friend with benefits? Dare he suggest a boyfriend? Sure, he said he loved him... but what the hell does that even mean? He'd been told the same thing before in situations that turned out to be a complete shit storm. That whole ordeal in the elevator was, well, he didn't exactly know what it was. Interesting? Yes. Thrilling? Yeah. Absolutely petrifying? Hell yeah. There was a spark of hope burning in the back of his mind that maybe Yuri did know what he wanted. And maybe what Yuri wanted was what he wanted. But it was faint. Barely there. In fact he was having trouble pinpointing what exactly it was that he himself was longing for so badly. His brain went haywire, jumping from one string of thoughts to the next. Did Yuri have more than one motive for Welcome to the Madness? He seems awfully aggressive towards women who talk to him. Or is he just aggressive towards everyone? Especially JJ, he really hates him. Oh god. JJ. That was one part of his past he'd never let Yuri find out about if it killed him. You see, the truth was that back when he lived and trained in Canada, he and JJ had a lot more going on than doing stupid things like jumping off of roofs together. They were also doing stupid things like sleeping together. They had both just gotten out of bad relationships with girlfriends and were... questioning a lot of things. Otabek always knew he had a bit of a thing for guys, but JJ was utterly confused. They experimented a lot in that period of time and Otabek confirmed to himself that he was, in fact, bisexual. JJ, on the other hand, ended up being straight. So that ended their sexual relationship. JJ insisted that they stay friends and put the whole ordeal behind them, but Otabek never could shake that twinge of regret. If Yuri ever found out...

He snapped out of his flashback as the water ran cold. Shit. he'd better hurry up and actually clean himself. He massaged shampoo into his hair and slicked it back as he rinsed it out. With a quick scrub of his body he was finished. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He pulled a towel from the hanger and dried himself off. His hair was all over the place; fluffed up, curly and hanging down over his forehead with a non-existent part. He huffed, blowing some strands of dark hair out of his face only to have it fall right back where it started. Oh well, he'd comb it back in a minute. He dabbed a touch of cologne on his neck so he didn't forget. He wrapped the towel around his waist and balled up his laundry. He opened the door and tossed it across the room into a pile. The movement caused the towel to slip down his hip a bit, so he just grabbed one side and held it in place, letting it hang diagonal across his body. An audible gasp made him snap his gaze to the person sitting on the bed. Yuri was staring at him, eyebrows raised, eyes wide, face red. His hands were positioned as if holding a phone, though he had since dropped his. Otabek was frozen, probably in a similar physical state to Yuri. The longest five seconds to ever happen followed. Otabek blinked, "I told you to close the door when you left!" He emphasized the last word.

"What? When the fuck did you see ay that?"

"Before I got in the shower!"

"I was half asleep, you know I don't retain information when I'm like that! I thought you brought clothes in with you!" Otabek's shoulders dropped as he ran the hand that wasn't preventing him from completely exposing himself to Yuri through his tousled hair with an irritated sigh. He looked back at said nuisance, almost taking a literal step back when he saw the blond eyeing him up and down, chewing on his bottom lip. His face grew even hotter and he awkwardly pulled the towel tighter around his waist. He cleared his throat, "I... need to get some clothes."

He walked past Yuri towards where his suitcase lay open on the floor, but stopped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, inhaling sharply when he was met face to face with Yuri. When the hell did he have time to stand? He had the most intense look on his face. Otabek couldn't tell if he was about to kiss him or throw him through the wall. It ended up being the first one. Yuri closed the gap between them, kissing him roughly. He ground up against him and Otabek, startled, dropped the towel. Yuri pushed him down onto the bed. Otabek squeezed his eyes shut as Yuri planted a kiss on the bridge of his nose, "wha-"

"You have so many birthmarks." He shot him a lopsided smirk, "I'll kiss all of them."

"Yura, what abou-"

"She already left for work." Yuri kissed his jaw, then his cheek up by his ear, his hands sliding down Otabek's back. He pulled him forward to whisper in his ear, "are you sure about this?" Yuri responded with another kiss and pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed it away and climbed on top of Otabek to continue his quest.


	6. Chapter 6

Yuri watched in bewilderment from the bed as a disheveled Otabek nearly tripped over himself pulling on a pair of boxers and headed for the door. He closed it a bit too loudly. Yuri flopped backwards and studied the plaster finish on the ceiling. Who the hell put that much detail into the designs on something people never even looked at? Well, he guessed he was looking at it. He inhaled, rubbing his thighs together. That went... well? It was hard to tell what Otabek was thinking, even at his most vulnerable. Not that he was that much less guarded than usual. It had all ended so suddenly, with Otabek pushing him away and rambling off some barely coherent excuse about condoms and the different ways one could contract an STD. Though it didn't end as Yuri would've liked, it was still the hottest make out session he'd ever experienced, which was a bit problematic considering how turned on he still was. Even after several minutes his legs were shaking. Damn, Otabek made him weak.

He jumped as his friend burst through the door and leaned back on it as it shut with a moderately horrified look on his face. The tension in his flexed muscles made them stand out. Yuri forced himself to look up at Otabek's face instead of his barely clothed body, "I thought you said Lilia was gone!" He whispered in a harsh tone.

"She must have forgotten something and come back" Yuri grimaced. Otabek furrowed his brow for a moment before darting around the room, dressing himself. He picked Yuri's shirt up off the floor and tossed it at him. With a quick glance back at him he exited. Yuri leaned against the door, straining to hear their muffled conversation. All he could make out was his polite, apologetic tone and his last thought above the pounding of his heart, "-In his room, I think."

Footsteps. The door flung into his shoulder. He nearly cursed out loud, but settled for a startled yelp as Otabek yanked him into the hall and shoved him into the bathroom. More footsteps, "he isn't there."

"I just checked, he's in the bathroom. Not feeling well."

"Hmm."

"What are you looking for?"

"Yakov's keys. Mila needs them."

"I haven't seen them. Hold on" there was a knock on the bathroom door. Yuri groaned in an attempt to sound as sick as possible, "yeah?"

"Yura, have you seen Yakov's keys?"

"Try the coffee table." He took the opportunity to wash his hands as Lilia departed. Otabek entered and joined him at the sink with a sigh of relief. Yuri wiped his hands on a towel and folded his arms across his chest, "Ow. Asshole."

"Sorry about that, Yura."

"Whatever. That was pretty smooth, actually-" He paused, tilting his head, "except for the whole- walking out on the most notorious Prima Ballerina in Russia in your underwear- part." He didn't reply, instead focusing on lathering soap between his fingers. Yuri leaned across his arm to give him a quick peck on the lips. Not stopping to gage his reaction, he turned and strolled out into the hallway, calling back as he made his way to his room, "I'm getting changed." As soon as he was in the room he threw himself to the floor and shoved his hand down his pants. It took him only a minute or two to finish off what Otabek had started. He let out a shaky sigh.

He pushed himself to his feet and cleaned himself up before throwing on a fresh pair of underwear, a hoodie and some sweats. He really didn't think he could do his regular jeans today, too tight and he didn't even know if they were going to go out. He grabbed a hair tie off his bedside table on his way out to go find Otabek. He held the elastic between his teeth as he gathered his hair into a relaxed ponytail so it didn't fall over his eyes. He heard his friend humming something and wandered to the kitchen. Otabek was cutting up some fruit. He liked to prepare food for people, but avoided stoves, ovens and grills at all costs. Yuri sat himself down at the counter across from him, "what song is that?"

"Huh?"

"The song you were humming."

"I was- oh." He turned the knife in his hand. Yuri couldn't help but smile. He hadn't even realized he was doing it. He kept chopping, "just a song."

"I like the tune. are you using it in something you're working on."

"Ah, no. It's um... it's a Kazakh folk song."

"A folk song?"

"Yeah. I usually prefer more alternative stuff, I guess, but my family is pretty musical on the classical and folk side. It's comfort music for me." He looked a little embarrassed. He hadn't let on that he enjoyed more genres besides rock, "do you play anything?"

"Before I started skating seriously I could play Dombra pretty well. I fell more into guitar once I was traveling. And a bit of piano, but I'm not great at it."

"Wow." There was a moment of silence, "can you sing that song again?"

"If you want." He straightened up a bit and rolled his shoulders back. He kept his eyes on the cutting board as he hummed the first note then jumped into the verse. Yuri couldn't understand the lyrics, but he could appreciate Otabek's low baritone voice. His notes were clear and his tone was rich. He could hear a bit of nervous shaking in the long notes, but it didn't detract from how all together nice his voice sounded. He glanced up at Yuri, "want to try?"

"I don't really sing."

"Alright." He shrugged and went back to chopping.

"Wait. Okay." He tapped his fingers on the countertop. The corners of Otabek's lips tugged into a barely-there smile, "Alright." He tried to sing with Otabek at a slow pace, over-pronouncing the syllables. He did a pretty good job with the words, but it was too low for him and his voice wavered awkwardly between a vocal fry and cutting out completely. Otabek cleared his throat, "try this." He quickly fired off the notes a fifth higher. That was easier. But he couldn't say that he sounded good. It was airy and weak. Otabek leaned to look at him over the counter, "you're sitting on your spine. Slide your weight forward."

"Like this?"

"Yeah. Straighten up a bit. Don't tilt your head." He nodded when Yuri complied, "sing me the first note." It was a little easier to breathe like this, "hold on. Lift the inside of your mouth. The soft part. And lift your face too. Like you're pleasantly surprised."

"This feels stupid."

"You'll sounds better, trust me." Yuri shot him an incredulous look, but sang the first line nonetheless. He was actually pleasantly surprised, "See?"

"How do you know all of this?"

"Honestly, I'm just spouting everything my youth choir teacher taught me."

"You were in a choir?"

"For a couple of years, yes." He thought for a moment, "you sound like you're running out of breath at the end of the phrase."

"I shouldn't be, I'm an athlete." He muttered.

"You breathe a little differently for singing. Try expanding your ribs."

"What?"

"Your ribcage."

"I don't think I can do that..."

"Here, I'll show you." He moved around the counter to stand beside Yuri's stool. He turned to face him as Otabek grabbed his hands and placed them on his ribs, sliding his shirt up. He stared down at his bare abdomen as he explained, "you can feel and see what I'm doing." He took a breath in and Yuri felt his sides push out. He was able to see the movement and where the bottom of his ribcage was. He kept himself expanded until he finished exhaling. Otabek moved behind him, "you try it." He tucked his hands up his hoodie, they were cold against his skin. He couldn't accomplish the extremity Otabek could, but he did it. It felt weird, "good. I know it feels like you're out of breath right away, but you can actually hold a note longer. Sing it again." They sang the tune together. Yuri smiled, "wow, I guess I can sing better than I thought I could."

"Just takes practice."

Yuri leaned back against his friend's body. He tried to avoid listening to classical music if it wasn't a part of his routine. But still, it was highly impressive to him that Otabek enjoyed and engaged in so many facets of music. Even if it wasn't considered traditionally 'cool', he made it look like the coolest thing in the world, "You're really good at this stuff. Why'd you stop doing it?"

Otabek rested his chin on Yuri's shoulder, "I didn't. You know I still DJ on the side. But if you're talking about singing, it's Skating. That's what I want to do. I can be a musician when I'm older, but I can only be a skater for a short window of my life. In this discipline I can represent my country on an elite level and share my culture, make my people proud. I can't do that through music alone. So I'm dedicating myself to what is best for my country right now."

"Hm."

"Mm?"

"That's very admirable."

"Wow, coming from you that's-"

"Shut up!" Yuri was suddenly uncomfortably aware of how close they were; Otabek's hands were still under his shirt. His face warmed up and he cleared his throat. Otabek's fingertips dragged across his ribs as he slid around in front of Yuri and pulled him to the edge of the stool. He gasped. Feeling like he was losing his balance, he threw his legs around Otabek's waist. Their foreheads rested together. He took in the intense gaze of those dark, cool brown eyes. He said something in Kazakh, his warm breath brushing Yuri's lips. He had no idea what it meant, but goddamn, it sounded hot. He swore he had heard those words before, he couldn't for the life of him remember what the context was, though. Sometimes Otabek's cheesy moments clashed with his chivalrous attitude and made Yuri utterly baffled at how he could possibly get a bad boy vibe from his friend. This was not one of those times, he had the wildest look. Yuri braced his hands on his shoulders and tightened his grip with his legs, lifting himself from the stool. Otabek's hands slid down his body to catch him. In a split second Yuri was sandwiched between him and the wall. Otabek kissed him. It was surprisingly tender considering their position, but the passion followed shortly. Stubble scratched his face, Otabek hadn't shaved. Yuri forgot to breathe. He threw his head back, breaking away with a gasp. Otabek went for the throat, sucking on his pale skin and leaving a mark. He felt a shudder travel down his spine.

Yuri hit the ground with a thud. He winced, had Otabek really just fucking dropped him? He went to yell something, but stopped short when he saw Otabek. He was frozen in place, shaking, face as white as a sheet. He looked like he had just stabbed somebody. He slowly backed away from Yuri, sinking onto his couch when he bumped against it. He buried his head in his hands. Yuri scrambled up and rushed to sit beside him. Otabek was cursing wildly in a confused jumble of Russian, Kazakh and English, under his breath. The languages didn't mesh well. Yuri hesitated reaching out a hand and instead stood, "I- I'll get you some water." He half ran to the kitchen, filling a plastic cup with tap water and placed it on the coffee table in front of his friend. He set a hand on Otabek's knee as he took a seat beside him, "what the hell, Beka?" He snatched the cup and chugged loudly. Yuri searched for the right words. Maybe he was uncomfortable with the intimacy? He did get pretty distant. Yuri tapped his fingers against the other's leg, "we can keep things more casual if you want." Yuri squeaked as Otabek crushed the plastic cup in his fist. He gagged, coughing water all over himself. He tilted his head back, eyes squeezed shut, not loosening his death grip on the mangled plastic. Yuri found himself with his back pressed against the far arm of the couch, knees against his chest. Wrong direction. Otabek was staring blankly at the broken cup with water dripping from his chin. He wiped it away with his sleeve. Without looking at Yuri, he blinked, "I'm sorry." He had fallen into the monotone voice that Yuri hated hearing from him. He threw the piece of plastic at the coffee table. It hit the glass top and bounced onto the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face, "I'm sorry... I-" his voice cracked. He leaned forward, causing his hair to fall back over his eyes and braced his arms against his knees. His shoulders were so tense, he was trembling, "I'm sorry." He could barely hear the whisper Otabek chocked out. Yuri threw his arms around his friend, sliding his legs over his lap and resting his cheek on his shoulder. Otabek set his chin on top of Yuri's head, letting his left hand move to his waist as he relaxed into the embrace. He let out a sigh. Yuri snuggled his way onto Otabek's lap, "you do know that nothing we've done is even close to illegal, right? I looked up the consent laws and-"

"Yura." He let out a low chuckle, "I know."

"Then why do you get all weird whenever we're about to start doing more than kissing? It's really fucking annoying."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your apologies! I just want to know what's so wrong with me that you never want to do anything!"

"What?"

Yuri felt the weight lift from his head as Otabek leaned back in surprise, "Do you think I'm stupid?" He twisted to face him.

"Wha- No! Of course not. Yura, it has nothing to do with you."

"Then what's going on with you? If you're going to put me through... emotions and shit- I deserve an explanation."

"If you must know..." he felt Otabek shift under him, "My last relationship ended in a weird place."

"What do you mean, 'a weird place?'"

"We were just supposed to be bros who fucked... kind of. Experimenting, like a friends with benefits type situation, until we figured ourselves out."

"Okay? What happened?"

"I got attached when I shouldn't have. He moved on."

"Found someone else?"

"That and he figured he was straight. He felt guilty. Nothing we did technically broke his 'moral code', but it really did. Does that make any sense?"

"Wow. I didn't know about all that."

"Surprising, considering how I just can't shut up about my sex life." His tone was grim and dry. Yuri had heard sarcastic remarks from Otabek once, maybe twice, before. He couldn't actually tell how much of that was true sarcasm, rather than his frustration at himself showing through. Yuri twiddled his thumbs, "well, I have to admit that I'm pretty interested in your sex life." Silence fell over them as Otabek's leaned further back, resting his shoulder blades against the cushions. Yuri watched him watch the ceiling. He let himself fall against his friend, "can I ask who it was?"

Otabek wrapped his arms around Yuri, "You can. But, I reserve my right to deny you an answer."

"Was it one of your rink mates in the USA?"

"No."

"You really won't tell me?"

"I'd like to leave that part of my past behind."

"Then why are you so afraid of whatever we are?"

"Because I don't want to get too attached to you or, even worse, make you feel the way I felt."

"Beka, I'd trust you with my life. As crazy as you make me, we're friends first." Yuri tried to brush off the sentiment with a shrug, "besides, you never have to see that piece of shit again, so why dwell?"

"I guess so." That was utterly unconvincing compared to his usual calm assurance... He lifted his head from the back of the couch to look at Yuri, "I'm sorry I dropped you."

He straightened up, "You should be, asshole! That hurt like a bitch."

Yuri planted his knees on either side of Otabek's hips and faced him so that Otabek had to tilt his head up to address him, "What do I owe you?"

"Your eternal guilt."

"There's nothing I can do to win back your trust?"

"You must let the wounds heal."

"To be fair, I did get you to the hospital when you bashed your own head open against the wall."

"I distinctly remember you panicking" He bluffed.

"Bullshit. You barely knew your own name."

"Whatever. I just hope you can live knowing that you dropped your concussed friend"

Otabek scoffed, but had no comeback to offer. Instead he buried his face in Yuri's chest and mumbled something incoherent that sounded like Kazakh. Yuri cautiously hugged Otabek against himself. One hand slid through Otabek's hair. It was soft and thick and tickled curling around his fingers, but his stubble pricked at his chest. Yuri glanced around the room with a sigh. He couldn't do it. He grabbed Otabek's chin and pulled his face up to his own, "As unbelievably hot as you look, you have to go shave." He looked mildly surprised, his cheeks squished up by Yuri's hand, "now." He let go and crawled off of a dejected Otabek. Yuri watched him as he headed for the guest room, admiring the rugged, but endearing look he had going on with his unshaven face, wildly curly hair and the slightly moody expression on his tanned face. He disappeared through the door. Yuri stretched with a groan and shuffled to the kitchen. The fruit Otabek had chopped was still laying out. He picked up a piece and chewed it thoughtfully as he plopped himself down at the counter, replaying the sequence of events in his head. Otabek could put on the most impressive facade he had ever seen for he public eye. It wasn't a little uncanny even, just how politely distant he was able to act. He always showed the utmost respect for whoever he spoke with to the point where sometimes he almost seemed like a pushover. Almost. Except for the fact that he treated everyone the same. That, and no one seemed to be close enough to him to use him. Except apparently that unnamed ex-boyfriend. It was that air of mystery that drew him to Otabek, but it was his passion, his sensibility and the fact that he treated Yuri like an equal, that made it impossible for him to stay away. He sure as hell wasn't flawless, that was showing more and more, but he was a decent guy. Yuri was a bit surprised when he leaned that Otabek actually did have emotions, but it somehow didn't make him any less cool. Just human. Which Yuri was infinitely grateful for because Gods were, in fact, not particularly fuckable.


End file.
